


When The World Was At War We Kept Dancing

by candemtown



Series: Ice Cream Shop [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bisexuality, Canon Compliant, Dark Past, F/M, Investigations, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, Multi, OT3, Overwatch Recall, Personal Growth, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Romance, World Travel, mcwidow, mcwidowhanzo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candemtown/pseuds/candemtown
Summary: World traveling, personal investigations and a threeway relationship were a powerful combination to balance priorities. To ignore a war at your door, however, is hoping it will ignore you as well.
Relationships: Hanzo Shimada/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Jesse McCree/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Series: Ice Cream Shop [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189085
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	When The World Was At War We Kept Dancing

The limousine arrives at nine o’clock. His plane landed a few hours ago in this city he never planned to visit. Entering this vehicle is not what he desired the most, either. Anyway, when the door is opened for him, he does not hesitate to accommodate himself after nodding a good night.

The text Hanzo received from the American was pretty clear and everything was happening as predicted on it. Even the sunroof above his head.

_ I’m not going to get up, no way... _

It opens at the same instant as if the driver was reading his mind.

“I was told to make you stand on it, even if for just a minute.” He has a fearful look when he announces his words, seemingly regretting every single one after pronouncing them.

The archer pities him and tries his best to curse McCree, but he cannot help smiling about it.

So, he stands through the sunroof caressing his own forehead, concealing his enjoyment.

The wind instantly throws a lock of his hair back, the party aroma hitting his face as he contemplates Las Vegas all illuminated around.

_ I can’t believe what I’ve become _ is the thought he cannot put away as he genuinely finds the experience valid.

The reunion with the requisite cowboy guy could not be confused with a simple event as he assured things to not.

No. It could not be just a simple ice cream in some city one of them was already in. McCree would surely find a way to spend money he knew Hanzo would contraryly spend.

It is not winter anymore, anyway.

The skyscraper casino at his right would merge in-between his thoughts, stopping them even if the driver would not have parked in front of it.

“Table 23, sir.” He says the words trying to sound professional but Hanzo knows he does not have a clue of what they are about. He nods a goodbye to him and turns around to make his way through the red carpet in direction to the entrance, leaving the huge fountain behind.

He understands instantly that the confident gunslinger was reassuring how intimidating Hanzo himself is.

Once again, he closes his eyes to the idea, snorting in disdain. His boyfriend is really a jerk, but yet so exactly. How well does he predict my moves? The thought appears.

But yes, there were some glances he realized people reserve for him. He could be feeling shy in this all new ambience, but in fact he walks through the main door incorporating the bad boy Jesse always importunate saying he is.

He made Hanzo wear the same clothes from the New York night out, the one where they got really closer. Why did he obey him? But, in fact, they fit him well, as he confirms looking at the large mirror that welcomes him. Damn it.

The forced nonchalance is dropped out once he realizes what the next move is. Table 23. Not the fancy big gold room. Not the games he will play or the money spent on it. Not even the people he might find, but one specifically.

The tables pass as well as the possibilities in his head. None of them are finding a blue skin woman wearing a big black hat owning anyone’s eyes in a crowded poker table.

“Night” He announces himself sitting on the opposite far end of the half-moon table, his heart accelerated and his eyes bright facing his adversary.

The woman raises his champagne glass discreetly in return, the only returned salutation he cares about for now.

“Welcome, sir.” The responsible for the table salutes. “You seem to be a powerful contender.”

Hanzo smirks in return, not really knowing what to reply.

“Sure he seems. But I bet he can’t beat me. My first bet of the night, by the way.” A deep voice coming from behind the small crowd answers for him. The man with gold crimson tie and moss suit accommodates in the middle of the table, touching his hat to the archer.

“Suddenly things became more heated here.” The dealer redistributes the game, already picking some tokens for the first bet as the small blind.

“He probably wants to impress some lady around here.” The lady winks. She is wearing diamond earrings, Hanzo notices in a smirk. She puts the triple as big blind.

“Maybe yes... Or maybe not. What if she already has a boyfriend?” The man in hat warns as Hanzo passes his turn. “I could not be wearing the right perfume.”

He raises an eyebrow to Hanzo who wonders why some people laugh about what he said if they did not really know the reference.

“Well, I took you for the type of guy who gets himself in a bar fight for some random girl he just met.” The woman answered, this time her French accent even more noticeable.

Again, some people laugh about it and Hanzo joins them, profiting the advantage to know the real fact. Wow, they are good at it.

“Maybe I am... Mostly if I already have at home another girl who I know that would take care of me.”

The French bits her lips with some angry, doubling the bets at her turn as people react with oohs to what they just heard.

The one at the center nods to her with a provocative smirk.

“It seems we have an incorrigible womanizer at the table.” The dealer poses the flop.

“I bet he is waiting for a straight to come up to his hands.” Hanzo starts laughing as the words come out. Some people may laugh louder than the woman on the other end, but hers is the truer one. She returns the eyebrow lift to the man, biting her lip.

“Clever one, adversary. I’m willing to know if perhaps you don’t get a full house…” Another round of ‘oohs’ as Hanzo lows his stare to his game, concealing the smirk.

“It seems our lady is trying to put one man against another.” The dealer comments, waiting for the play of the cowboy.

“Why would I bother myself with this boy?” He drops his words as if they were nothing, betting the double he was usually raising.

“Alright, alright. Even because in style he already won you.” She does the same play.

Ooh!

Even Hanzo joins in. He knows that messing about the other’s style is always his weak point.

The man undoes his smirks at the same time, turning to the Japanese with the more serious of faces:

“The initial bet is still on.”

In response, Hanzo only shrugs. Then checks after the new revealed card, pulling his sleeve until his elbow, knowing the effect his tattoo would cause.

“Two tough guys? I’m really curious about the showdown.” The dealer incites and the cowboy coughs.

“I could also bet they are more concerned about each other than me.” The woman pulls her crimson low-cut dress up, distracting anyone.

“What about both of us concerned about you?” Anyone distracted returned the gaze. Even the cowboy who widens his eyes to the Japanese.

“Bon, alors, I’d say I like to know the winner of the match better.”

The man in the middle bets almost forgetting it was his turn, but not really thinking about it. The French smiles to his move, awakening Hanzo to the game she is doing. Even so, when is his turn again, she succeeds on distracting him with a question:

“So, Japanese heartthrob, I’m here thinking if you already have a girlfriend, since I’m different from our adversary in the middle.”

She sounds casually but the other opponent leans forward yearning for the answer in his familiar way.

“This is something that concerns them, you know? But, well, yes, they might be around somewhere so I might ask them.”

“More than one girlfriend? Wow!” The cowboy admires with a smirk.

“See? I told you they’re one of the same.” She backs on her seat, realizing her successful strategy. “You seem to be a sake lover. Let me pay one drink to you, and another to this cowboy here, since he will also like it.”

“You know, that sake’s not half bad but... I prefer a little bite to my liquor.” He removes his hat, smirking to the lady who bites her lips, both of them already expecting what the Japanese would say, so he decides to talk about other thing:

“Bring to him the sake drink. Make sure you have a green tea mixed one. I’m pretty sure it would affect him even more.”

The French laughs again, and he finds it funnier when he realizes by the upset cowboy face that he likes to be the one and only to make her smile.

Another distracted round for the men passed, but the lady ended up being the more analytical one. Joking and laughing about the commentaries and drinks but ending up to be the great winner when the showdown time came. Comically it was a three of a kind.

“Et c’est comme ça. Three of a kind, which means I’m keeping my word of knowing the winner better buying me another drink to myself. See you around gentlemen. Now you can enjoy each other's company without me disturbing you.” She gets up, passing her scarf around her neck.

“So, you’re leaving without a chance of a rematch?” The cowboy provokes, serious. “D’accord, mademoiselle, anyway the Japanese heartthrob as you said didn’t win either.”

“Whatever…” Her voice fades among the room noises as she walks away toward the bar, keeping the card with the prize registered.

“Soon you’ll hear about a guy who lost a game but won the match.” The man gets up too, heading to the woman, but before he turns to Hanzo and reserves to him the deepest and more heated glance, giving him his hand: “It was a pleasure, stranger.”

Hanzo shakes his hand in return, desiring to pull McCree closer in a fierce hug. He can see Jesse yearns for the same, but he keeps the staging and quickly undoes the handshake, leaving the table.

“I wonder how this all started this heated and ended up so suddenly.” The dealer seems disappointed when Hanzo also leaves the table.

Actually, he knew McCree would go to the smoking cabin, that’s why Amélie is all alone at the bar, legs crossed and her raised hand leaning on her waist lands another champagne glass.

Hanzo approaches without saying a word, but his smirk is as large as a smile as they exchange looks. He stops right in front of her, hands in his pockets.

She throws her head back laughing.

“You really thought you two could be more impassive than me?” She poses her glass on the counter and pulls Hanzo by his forearms to a hug before leaning her hands back on his shoulders.

“I was up to compete, not to win.” He backs his head to stare her directly on her face. Soon she starts kissing him.

“How much did you miss me?” He asks with his mouth on hers.

She backs up a little, opening her eyes.

“Merde, I missed you.”

Hanzo smiles before returning to the kiss, knowing he does not need to respond since she already has her answer too. She caresses his face and he finds it hard to content his hands on her waist.

“My opponents are already fine allies?” Jesse leans against the counter, observing them two.

Amélie approaches him, sensing the lasting smoke.

“Loser.” She is at his height on her high heels. “And didn’t even invite me to a cigar.”

“You don’t stop surprising me.” He waits for her to kiss him but she does not, only to upset him, smiling at his face.

He searches for Hanzo help but he is also smirking at the scene. However, once their glance exchanges, that previous feeling is revived once again, so the American passes by Amélie directly to the arms of the Japanese.

“Han, my heartthrob!” He is the one biting his lips now. The archer shakes his head but does not provoke him as Amélie, kissing McCree in instants. He is still finding it funny that he was able to be that indifferent minutes ago.

“More than one girlfriend, right? Nice to see you again, girlfriend number 2”

“Come here, loser.” Amélie gives up from her game and unties Jesse from Hanzo to herself.

As they make out passionately, the Japanese looks around a little embarrassed as he realizes some people do look at them.

“I’d accept an invite to a cigar too.” He finally says.

“Sure.” McCree finishes his reunion with Amélie. “Mine are over, but I can buy new ones.” He shows them the prize card he just stole from Amélie.

She slaps his face but he only laughs.

“Told ya.”

*****

“Alright, gunslinger, why were you all articulated in your texts and all?” Amélie asks without puffing the smoke.

McCree looks at her with his eyes bright to see her smoking, beside the reunion. Honestly, they all share the same feeling and know it, even without a mention. The cabin is small for the three but they are far from complaining about it.

“I got my reasons. I wanted you to have a good time… it should be memorable.” As he just smoked a whole cigar, ironically, he is the only one not holding one.

“A little bit of romance among our coldness is beautiful, don’t you think it, girlfriend?” Hanzo puffs.

“Not really. But it is truly nice to see him trying.” She caresses his beard as Hanzo used to.

“That’s why I said ‘reasons’ in plural. I knew you’d like some action. So I needed you to be gentle with me.”

“What do you mean?” She makes a strange face, visibly lightened by nicotine.

“You know Talon is behind you, right?”

“Oh no. What did you do, McLoser?”

He and Hanzo laugh at it. But the feeling is different between them. McCree’s carries arrogance whereas Hanzo’s carries some kind of fear.

“Do you know that our history even touched Overwatch? Nothing we couldn’t imagine, for sure. But differently from Talon, Overwatch wants to help. Talon discovered your location when I told you to come here, Amélie. But I knew they would soon also discover that we would be here.”

“You’re saying that that annoying English girl is here?” Amélie does not show an angry reaction, but Hanzo knows she is not indifferent.

“Perhaps. But what I’m mainly saying is that this will probably look like a perfect ambush for Talon.”

The archer looks around, suspicious.

“You can’t see it, but they’re already here, I could say. Amélie even better. It’s not what'll anger you, however. It’s gonna be fun to run from them toward the roof. But you’ll certainly be mad about who will be there to rescue us.”

“McLooser, as much as I’m here desiring you is the much I wanna shoot you in the head.” She looks around too, but she can identify the danger, instead. “Let’s go, I do recognize some faces.”

She pulls both of them by their hands off the cabin.

“Discreetly, let’s try to take the elevator to the roof, you said? Keep a look at that guy in the red suit by the slot machine. And another at the woman in black in the other cabin. If they come together to take the elevator with us, it’s ok. But if someone else joins them, we’ll take the stairs, understood?” She talks it all casually, even smiling at the end as if she just told them a joke.

“Jesse McCree, I missed you.” Hanzo says already out of the cabin.

The American tender smiles at him.

“Me more than you could suppose.”

“Enough my boys, here they come. Three of them. To the stairs.”

They take the stairs with excited faces. Even if Amélie is trying to not be.

“They will think we’re going to the underground room, right? I can’t believe our cowboy did think about it.” She taps him twice on his shoulders as they wait for the doors to close, before quickly making their way upstairs.

When they reach the first floor, they quit the stairs to finally take the elevator, all of it without saying a word.

“I’d never say we already have this synergy level.”

“Baby, we’re the perfect threesome.” McCree comments entering the elevator that just arrived.

Hanzo realizes three people getting out of the stairs as the door closes.

Only two people are in, the guy in the red suit included. They all change glances before McCree immobilizes him by his neck in a single move while Hanzo does the same with the other.

“Who sent you?” Amélie asks dryly.

“What are you talking about?” One of them asks. Amélie rolls her eyes and punches his stomach.

“It was Talon or someone in particular? You don’t even need to say any name, that’s all I need to know.”

“I-it wasn’t Talon.”

Amélie nods two her boyfriends so they make them unconscious in seconds.

“Alright, American boyfriend. I did like this part better.” She smiles at him. “What is waiting for us up there?”

“A craft. Who is inside I really do not know.” He drops the body he held on the floor.

“Who sent them?” Hanzo asks.

“Talon, of course. They would never say it, and this doesn’t really make any difference.” She smiles maliciously.

“The true tough guy is you, the dealer downstairs didn’t realize it.” Jesse attests with a whistle.

The elevator arrives at the top, so they just need to take one flight of stairs to feel the perfumed spring wind blowing on their faces.

The aircraft has already dropped the rope down to the roof. McCree is the first one to reach it, climbing it masterfully making Hanzo smile.

“I need to say I hate you too, Jesse.” He comments, climbing the rope too, even faster when he hears the sound of the exit door being opened once again by the women Amélie warned them.

When he looks below, her girlfriend has the best of her poker faces that the archer does not even have a clue of which decision she is about to take.

It is like she could grab the rope and climb it in any second, but it would also be likely for her to jump to the other building on their left, refusing to follow Jesse’s plan.

Hanzo does not say a word in the next seconds that last too long as he watches the Talon agents coming for Amélie. He knows that in the middle of all those incendiary Las Vegas lights a million of choices pass through her head.

He only hopes that she chooses the right one, or that he had chosen the right one himself.


End file.
